


Witches and Vampires

by SkySamuelle



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-12
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-07 14:28:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/432161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkySamuelle/pseuds/SkySamuelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 1.14, Damon still watches over Bonnie, Bonnie questions her identity and Fire keeps the secrets it had revealed to Sheila Bennett .</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Raven And Maiden

Vampires are carnal creatures; it's not a secret. They take and want, feed and fuck, all with the same boundary-free intensity and remorseless self-indulgence.

Unless their name is Stefan Salvatore, Damon considers with a mocking inner smile, ruffling his feathers absently as he watches the scene unfolding before his raven eyes.

The witch doesn't notice him, and he vaguely wishes she were doing something more interesting than chatting up silly Caroline via her cell. Like, maybe undressing with her blinds open, so he would have a sound reason to waste his time on her.

Still, he has to concede that it's interesting, the way every line of her tight little body relaxes when she is in animated conversation with her closer friends. It becomes sinuous, as inviting as that artless glow of her smile, when she tilts her head and laughs. A low, guilty laughter, like she found it impossible to laugh in her mourning.

Bonnie Bennett is all he doesn't want, hotness notwithstanding. Naïve, trusting, loyal, nearly mature for her age, way too honest and _humble_. _Scared_ of all that sacred _power_ dormant inside her (shame on that).

No wonder that Stefan likes her, on second thought.

She is exactly the kind of girl their father would have considered suitable for marriage (to his brother), sorceress bloodline aside. A perfect Maiden.

Damon is not the kind of man who would appreciate that anymore, the kind that keeps doors open for blushing beauties, cares for anyone's opinion –let alone his brother's- or takes care of other people.

Katherine broke him out of that. Deep down, he has always known she was poison in his veins, that she would burn him from the inside out someday, even before learning she has never been inside that grave.

The difference is that _before_ , he believed they were meant to consume each other, equal in that sweet quest for destruction.

Wanting Elena makes sense because it's the easiest doorway to erase Katherine completely, from his heart and his memory. Wanting Elena means seeking to reverse history and going after her is demanding that the universe rights a wrong. Having Elena would be finally seeing _that_ face in his mind and not recalling his sire.

Wanting Bonnie is purely a purposeless caprice.

He is watching her out of curiosity and filthy voyeuristic pleasure, perhaps a desire to observe all the ways her grief has broken her.

Sometimes, he just wishes he could rip her open, set free the darkness she _has_ to be hiding somewhere inside.

Once upon a time, there was a boy who wanted simply to reach out and touch something beautiful, something intense, and to be touched back by it.

That boy doesn't exist anymore, except in Stefan 's most remote, shame-filled memories and Damon's own.

Yet…Bonnie turns, her resentful eyes meet his and hold on, unsurprised and accusing. They say 'I-fear-you-not, you-evil- vampire'.

Maybe she had noticed of his discreet scrutiny, after all.

Good Little Witch.

He should stay, if only to taunt her better and to rise to the silent challenge, but his instincts have him flying away before he can articulate a proper thought.

Sometimes he wishes he never had that first, one damning taste of her.

He can still feel her ancient blood lingering underneath his skin, taunting him with the promise of a primitive heat. A beautiful incandescence begging to be awoken.

She had been heady from the first sip, enough so to startle him out of his rage. Almost heady enough to scare him and definitely enough to leave a powerful impression.

He remembers it so clearly than every time he sees her pretty face, or smells her presence the taste fills his mouth again.

An addictive blend of aged wine and dark chocolate, if he needs to define it with boring human terms of comparison.

Damon has tasted witches before, and none of them has ever lingered in his veins like this. Someday- he promises himself- he will understand what makes Bonnie Bennett so tantalizingly different.

Wait and see, he will get one more taste.


	2. Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Bonnie-centric, post 1.14 drabble. Our favorite witch questions her real nature, and her kinship with a certain vampire.

Bonnie runs her fingertips reverently along the edge of several pages, bittersweet sadness squeezing the breath out of her as she takes in her grandmother's writing.

There are notes about the next Dark Moon ritual – it makes something in her gut ache, realizing that Sheila had planned to be there, the next month- and a recipe for pumpkin pie.

Bonnie bites her bottom lip hard to not cry, not again, and most especially over _this_.

The old Grimoire allows her to feel closer to her grandmother but still…it hurts, it hurts so much, more than anything else she has ever experienced. She would prefer being the one cold and dead, rather than submitting to this torment of guilty consciences and loss.

For the first time she believes she can come closer to understanding how Elena could emerge from last summer as a changed person. You just can't withstand a pain like this and stay the same as you were.

They say the distance from those people you have loved and lost becomes a part of you eventually, but that idea hardly makes anything easier, only more unfair.

Bonnie knows what Stefan is, but she never forgets _who_ he is either. He is always going to be a person and a friend first and a terrifying beast second.

This is why she will never blame him for disrupting their ordinary lives with his arrival. He helped her to accept her cumbersome heritage and he made Elena happy again, and this somehow matters more than anything he could have done before coming back to Mystic Falls.

Stefan is a man, not a monster.

But his brother…oh, Damon is another story all together. Even his first name seems to pay homage to what he is: a demon, a creature who revels in destruction and darkness. The fact that he is capable of love doesn't redeem him because Damon Salvatore chooses to embrace the animal within.

Damon is a monster because vampirism defines his nature and character. He is at his most cruel when he plays with truth for his purposes, a predator gently coaxing his prey toward the set trap.

He is calculating and narcissistic, shameless in pursuing his interests…yet every flaw is easily overlooked in the moment's heat because he looks like sex on legs, his eyes are so blue and his voice ever so …convincing.

Bullshit.

Elena could be softening up toward the brother of her boyfriend, but she doesn't have the basis to draw the lines. Leopards and lions can like you, but that doesn't mean they will warn you before tearing you apart.

Stefan is still a man where Damon is pure vampire, that's the truth. The fact that _she_ can see it, so easily…Bonnie is afraid of what it could mean.

What is _she_? An otherworldly creature or a cheerleader? A Daughter of Nature or a girl?

It was Caroline who convinced her to try out cheerleading, and it was because of her friendship with Elena Gilbert that she became a permanent fixture of the popular crowd of Mystic Falls.

And all along, there was deep down, a little voice whispering that nothing in all that could truly define her. That pompom practice and parties were distractions, unable to taint that self-aware and calm core existent at the very bottom of her.

She is terrified that her life so far has been a charade, a waiting game. That underneath the affection she has for Elena and her parents, the calling of Wind and Hearth is stronger, powerful enough to shatter the façade. Storms used to get her so unusually excited when she was a little girl… she used to watch by the window, waiting to catch the lightning as it struck, listening to the rain.

And her grandma used to smile over it. _"Just like a true Salem's child."_ Sheila commented once, stroking Bonnie' s wind-blown hair affectionately.

Perhaps she is a monster, too.

It would surely explain why she feels the way she does when _he_ is nearby. That sense of instinctive recognition burning low in her belly, contradictory as it both warns her of the danger and draws her toward it.

She resents Damon the most for how easily his superficial charm and outside appearance distract from his true self. At his core, he is a predator.

Like calls to alike-that is the very first law of magic.

Bonnie hates the concept of seeing in the older Salvatore a twisted reflection of herself. Yet…

There's no denying she was a witch a long time before she began receiving visions and regularly meeting vampires. Some secretive part of her knew it. Always.

Bonnie has never been the kind of girl to be fearful of change. Magic had not scared her shitless _only_ because it threatened to shatter her sense of normalcy, or it could not be properly controlled.

Magic had scared her because it threatened to change _her_ , to _define_ her. Like there was another Bonnie Bennett inside her, fighting to get out and take over.

_What is she, really? Human, despite that white-hot, stubborn force humming under her skin, screaming to not be denied?_

_Or just another monster in disguise?_


	3. Fire Speaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grandma Bennett divines her future pre-ep 1.14, and she doesn't like what she sees. There's another reason she's agreed to open that grave. It falls in line with 'Raven and Maiden' and 'Identity'.

Fire Magic in itself is not easy, but Fire Divination is a true art. Fire is not an element that can bend to a seeker's will, but it must be courted passionately, with perseverance…until it accepts you and consumes you. The true witch knows it and loves the flames all the more for the challenge they offer.

Lately, Sheila can feel her strength waning, the Others whispering to her from beyond the Veil.

There's her mother, a cherished cousin, a long-lost friend, who was a sister in their craft. Bonnie's grandfather. They murmur that she doesn't need to be afraid. Soon, the distance between them will be crossed, and they will know each other again.

Sheila doesn't fear Death, like every woman who has lived a long and fulfilling existence, or a witch who has glimpsed what lies beneath the _apparent_ reality . She is, however, afraid of what she will leave behind.

Her beloved granddaughter, so powerful and still so inexperienced, so unaware of everything she might accomplish. The thick darkness hovering once more over Mystic Falls. Those vampires.

There are answers Sheila needs to have before she can give herself over and finally rest.

So she offers sage and thyme to the flames stroked inside her cauldron and chants, low, staring into the fire until her sight blurs and the hitching, dry heat has worked its way inside her. The common world calls away as everything just burns inside and out of her, creating a sort of fierce non-existence where the centre of every truth lies.

_Fire, my lover, my friend. Tell me whether my lineage will be safe._

Flames flare high, entwine and mold together, forming the shape of two bodies desperately grasping at each other. Skin sliding against skin. Thirst. Hunger. Shadows fading, abysses filed. Black nails clawing at a back pale as marble, dark fingers brushing mussed hair away from a white forehead, affectionately.

Blue. Eyes as blue as sapphires. They could be beautiful if they weren't brimming with malice.

Fangs, white and sharp, trailing possessively over a shoulder, a flat stomach, a smooth thigh. A sense of rightness and belonging.

Blood. Bonnie arching in a secure, firm hold as her life slowly ebbed away, claimed by a creature she loved.

Bonnie in her coffin, beautiful and young. Too young. The last Bennett witch, the most powerful and the most famous, dead and cold, childless.

Bonnie rising again with a gasp, a smirk welcoming her into the night. A vampire strong like no other, with a wild, terrible, magic still coursing through her. _"I am so hungry, Damon_. _"_

It's the name that startles the oldest Bennett out of her trance.

_No._

She will never allow _any_ of this to become true. Bonnie won't be the last of her lineage, and no Salvatore will be the end of her. Even if it has to mean opening the doors of Hell itself, Sheila will save her.


End file.
